The Pearl Queen
by redwallanderson
Summary: We always wondered where Mariel, Dandin and Bowly went off to at the end of The Bellmaker. Now we know.
1. Chapter 1: Introductions

(I was bored recently and just finished reading Mariel of Redwall and The Bellmaker for the first time in years. I decided why not write a Redwall fanfiction story, as a tribute to Brian Jacques. RIP. I do not claim ownership of any of his original characters I use. This was merely my way of dealing with the loss. I do not write this to make any profit whatsoever.)**  
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**CHAPTER ONE**

The gatehouse door was swept shut behind the badger as soon as she hurried inside. The massive beast chuckled kindly as the crowd of little creatures crowded around the trolley of food she pushed before her.

"Wait your turn!" she warned a little volebabe who was in the process of dipping a sneaky paw into a bowl of stew.

The little Dibbun drew back his paw with a guilty expression, sucking on the offending paw. Constance ruffled the fur on his head with a fond smile as she passed out bowls to the mob. The badger mother of Redwall Abbey made herself comfortable on a chair by the fire and surveyed her young charges.

"Tell uz-ns a story," one molebabe demanded, and the other Dibbuns clamored agreement.

Constance stared at the coals in the fire for a moment, deep in thought. She smiled slowly as she selected a tale from her long seasons of experience.

"Have you ever heard the tale of Mariel Gullwhacker and Darkgor the Twisted?" she asked, knowing the answer before the responses.

Indeed, there was a chorus in the negative from the Abbey's young ones who sat in a semicircle around their badger mother.

"Sit back - wait for that scone to cool Grunk you little scamp! - and listen to the tale of a mousemaid and her companions as they battle in the name of freedom against the hordes of evil."

* * *

><p>The windborne spray tore across the old ship's battered deck, threatening to carry away anybeast that didn't hold on for dear life. The vessel was caught in the claws of a gale that would tear the courage from the hearts of any other crew. The <em>Pearl Queen<em> and the beasts aboard her were made up of something special, however. They fought tooth and limb against the sea's ruthless assault.

A sturdy full-grown mouse whooped as a wave crashed over the deck. The ageless devil was soaked to the skin in seawater and grinning like a mad hare.

"I must admit," he bellowed to his companion, a pretty mousemaid, "these searats are unusually persistent."

The mousemaid raised her head against the cruel wind, staring at the searat vessel three shiplengths in their wake. She bared her teeth in something born between a grimace and a smile. A hedgehog that stood at the other side of the mousemaid laughed despite the spray that battered his face mercilessly.

"Let them come," he roared heartily. "We can't keep up at this pace for long, mates! Break out your weapons!"

The two mice knew that their companion spoke the truth. The mousemaid unlooped a thick length of rope from about her waist. The end was knotted into a blunt weapon. Mariel of Redwall hefted her Gullwhacker and grimly regarded it. She remembered laying out several scavenging seabirds with it while she languished half-dead on the shore.

The other mouse drew his long dagger, clutching it tightly in one paw as he stared at the ship in their wake. Scores of ragged searats crowded its deck, casting taunts at the three companions and waving weapons. A few poorly-timed arrows were already in the air, falling miserably short.

"They're gaining on us fast!" the mouse with the dagger shouted.

"Let them come, Dandin!" the hedgehog called again as he loaded his sling with a hefty pebble.

Bowly Pintips cast a stone and nodded in satisfaction as a rat toppled into the abyss with a startled scream. The rats were in range now, for better or for worse.

The vermin that thronged the decks returned fire. Spears, arrows and slingshots thudded into the aged decks of _The Pearl Queen_. Mariel ducked just under an arrow that zipped overhead and she tossed a spear back. It arced uselessly into the sea. The three companions were forced to dive for cover as another volley of projectiles took flight.

"That's it, mates! Pin 'em down!" crowed a rat standing on a rail waiting to leap aboard _The Pearl Queen_ as the distance steadily closed between the two craft.

Dandin realized that this particular searat was the captain. He raised a paw to point him out to Bowly. The hedgehog had already loaded another stone and cast it, however. The unfortunate rat toppled backwards senseless as the stone bounced off his head. The other searats paid him no heed.

The ships were now almost pressed together as the storm pounded them. A few adventurous vermin attempted to leap aboard. They were slain by Mariel's Gullwhacker and Dandin's dagger before they had time to draw breath. The two mice and a hedgehog stood waiting to repel all comers.

"Come on! It's only the three of us, you cowards! REDWAAAAAAAAAAAALL!"

Mariel was almost shocked at the harsh scream that ripped from her throat. The searats milled uncertainly on the deck of their own vessel. A bold young searat broke the silence.

"We can take 'em, mates!" he yelped, leaping across to _The Pearl Queen_ nimbly. "Come on!"

The rest of the motley crew of vermin roared affirmation and followed. Mariel, Dandin and Bowly took one look at the charging mass of villains and ran the other direction. Footpaws pounded on the deck as the searats gave chase.

"They're running!" screamed the searat - his name was Fleatooth - who had spoken up. "The day is ours!"

He was in the front-runners of the mob of vermin when the three warriors dropped belowdecks. A score of squirrels popped up in their place with arrows nocked on bowstrings. Their faces were grim and merciless.

"SOUTHSWAAAAARD!" the squirrel archers roared as they released the shafts into the front ranks of the would-be invaders.

Fleatooth threw himself onto his snout on the deck. The arrows hissed viciously overhead and took out a good dozen vermin. Fleatooth scrambled back to his feet just in time to take one of the shafts in the shoulder. He howled in pain and staggered back towards the rats' ship, the _Gutsail_.

"Retreat!" Fleatooth bawled with another agonized yelp.

Fleatooth only had time to gasp as his crew was met at the rails by the trio of cold-eyed warriors leading a group of shrews. The retreat of the searats had been cut off and it wasn't a pleasant sight for anybeast. After it was all over, the storm had begun to subside. Dandin grimly wiped his dagger on the ragged clothing of one of the dead vermin.

" 'Twas a job well done," Bowly commented, leaning against _The Pearl Queen_'s railing and watching as a crew of otters began dumping the dead rats over the side. "What will we do with yonder searat vessel?"

He nodded towards the _Gutsail_, which had been lashed to _The Pearl Queen_.

"Free the oarslaves and cut her loose," Mariel responded quietly.

The mousemaid stood at her beloved vessel's rail, watching the sun wink at her between the clouds. Dandin joined her, clasping her paw wordlessly. She rewarded him with a small smile. The two companions stood there silently together. They had never needed words to convey their feelings.

"Land ho!" a squirrel lookout called from high up in the mast.

Mariel, Dandin and Bowly rushed to the foot of the mast. They looked up and followed the squirrel's gestures, spotting the smudgy outline of mountains to the south. The three warriors exchanged glances.

"Let's cut this tub loose and head for land!" Bowly shouted to general agreement.

* * *

><p>Darkgor the Twisted knew only victory in the savage Southern Wildlands. He had gathered all manner of bloodthirsty vermin to his cause. Slave labor had sped up construction on the smooth-tongued rat's masterpiece: the Fortress Hightop. Whispers began to run around the vermin encampment of construction being completed within a few seasons' time.<p>

The half-finished stronghold was already impressive, in a word. It sat atop the highest peak on the coast of the Wildlands, looking out over the sea. Two towers stood freshly built in the center of the vast courtyard. The tallest of the two housed Darkgor and his most trusted generals.

Darkgor made quite an imposing picture, pacing silently in what would soon be his throne room. He was impatient and his eyes blazed with anger. Two of his lieutenants stood at attention nearby, shaking in their fur.

"You!" Darkgor roared suddenly, turning and pointing with his drawn sword.

One of the lieutenants - a ferret - jumped as he realized that his leader was talking to him.

"Y-y-yes, Your Majesty?" the ferret asked in a quavering voice.

"Why has the _Gutsail_ not returned?" Darkgor snarled, slicing the air with the deadly blade. "Skullrigg was a capable captain but he has tested my patience for the last time."

The ferret stuttered, trying to buy time for an answer. Darkgor raised the sword as if to slay him and the pathetic beast collapsed weeping. The other lieutenant - a weasel - spoke up quickly.

"Your Majesty, the scout Grogpaw returned this morning. He spotted the _Gutsail_ beached on the north coast. She was abandoned like a ghost ship, sire."

Darkgor turned away and resumed his pacing, scraping his swordpoint along the stone floor absently as he did.

"We have visitors," he whispered to himself.

He wheeled back around to face his two lieutenants. Both had stayed rigidly at attention and they were staring straight ahead. Darkgor was unpredictable and they dared not provoke his legendary wrath.

"Send out patrols to the north coast," he ordered the weasel Nipback.

He waited until the weasel had left before turning to the ferret, Ripwhisker. Darkgor smiled; Ripwhisker shuddered. He didn't like the look of it. It turned out that Ripwhisker's instincts were correct.

"Go with them," Darkgor said softly. "No one defies me. Find out who did this."

Ripwhisker scampered off after Nipback without a backwards glance. Darkgor stared after him for a long moment before turning and looking at the space where his throne would sit. King Darkgor sounded much better than Darkgor the Twisted. It most certainly did!


	2. Chapter 2: Setting The Deck

(Here's chapter two, I hope you all enjoy. I promise that the story's climax is going to be worth it.)

**CHAPTER TWO**

Mariel helped the last oarslave off of the _Gutsail_ and onto _The Pearl Queen_. The wretched creature was thin and he was missing half of an ear. He had told _The Pearl Queen_'s crew that he had been wounded when he was captured. Muscles rippled visibly underneath the young mouse's filthy fur and scarred hide.

"My name is Keyba," he said, unintentionally causing Dandin to wince with a firm grip as they shook paws.

"I'm Dandin of Redwall and this is my mate Bowly Pintips and-"

"My name is Mariel," the mousemaid interrupted, smiling at Keyba.

Keyba returned the smile shyly. It was obvious that he had been a slave since he was just a babe. Dandin supposed that Keyba was feeling the same way that he had felt when he first encountered the unique mousemaid.

Mariel surveyed the rest of the oarslaves. Only half a dozen were left alive. The _Gutsail_'s captain Skullrigg had been a harsh master. The mousemaid looked starboard where _Gutsail_ drifted at the mercy of the wind. Bowly had already cut her loose.

"You're free!" Mariel told Keyba and embraced him.

Dandin turned away automatically and stared at the coastline sliding steadily by. Bowly joined him by _The Pearl Queen_'s rail as introductions went on behind them. Dandin spoke first, softly.

"We'll drop anchor soon," he told Bowly. "Tell Rosebrush to assemble some archers. I am going to prepare the longboat."

Dandin pointed at the ship's old longboat lashed tightly to the deck nearby. Bowly nodded and stared at the bleak mountains and strange misty forests of this new land. The two old friends shivered simultaneously. What lay in wait for them in this wasteland?

Meanwhile, Mariel had become swift friends with the oarslaves. She had teamed up with Keyba. The pair roared with laughter as they playfully chased the two young rabbit twins, Freel and Jeel.

"Oh-ho-ho, hahaha! Come back here, you little rascals!"

"Hahahaha! I haven't had this much fun in ten seasons! C'mere! Gotcha!"

* * *

><p>The dungeons of the Fortress Hightop were cold, dark and filthy. Hopeless, mad screams echoed from deep inside the lower levels. This was where Darkgor the Twisted housed his countless slaves. It was a place of despair and mind-numbing horror.<p>

As the little squad of Hordebeasts hurried along in his wake, Darkgor trotted along with his eyes darting from cell to cell like any good warden. He had personally beaten defiance out of every slave at least once. They feared him and hated him more than anything.

The big rat paused in front of a cell containing a hard-eyed old squirrel named Rawbuck.

"Him!" Darkgor ordered, indicating the slave with a claw that was both immaculate and deadly.

A stoat Captain named Snapp hastily opened the cell. Rawbuck was on him in a flash of sharp teeth. Snapp let out an ear-splitting scream.

"ARGHHHHHHHH! He's bitin' me! Sire, he's b-"

Snapp's screams were cut off as Rawbuck slew him. Darkgor smashed the flat of his broadsword into the back of the mad squirrel's head, dropping him like a log.

"Drag him into the courtyard," Darkgor ordered his Hordebeasts.

He glanced into the cell at Snapp's crumpled form and called over his shoulder before continuing on his way.

"And clean that mess up..."

Darkgor selected another squirrel - a female named Holly - and the strapping young otter twins Fordbrook and Shorebrook. The slaves were all dragged into the center of the courtyard, which buzzed with activity. Holly was sobbing quietly. Fordbook and Shorebrook sat together silently and watched as Rawbuck began to stir.

"I do not tolerate defiance," Darkgor began as he began pacing in front of his slaves. "You all know that. Yet I have heard rumors that you four were planning an escape."

Holly sobbed harder; Rawbuck crawled over and tried to comfort his daughter to no avail. His eyes had lost their mad luster. He was defeated.

"You were planning an escape," Darkgor repeated in a low and mocking tone that called to mind the calm before a storm.

The big rat leaned down to stare into Holly's wide eyes.

"Does that not constitute defiance?" Darkgor whispered.

Darkgor looked up at the silent, grim-eyed archers lining the walltop. All it took from Darkgor was a single swift nod. Four arrows zipped viciously down into the courtyard.

Darkgor resumed his pacing without missing a beat.

"Take them away," he ordered a fox nearby. "Dump them in the river."

The fox - a lower-ranking officer named Baletail - knelt beside one of the bodies. It was Rawbuck.

"This one's still alive, sire," Baletail said.

Darkgor was on Baletail in an instant, battering him with punches and kicks. Baletail cowered back and began screaming orders to a group of Hordebeasts. He followed them out of the half-finished gates to the banks of the River Krash a thousand paces away. He watched as the limp forms were carried away by the current.

Baletail couldn't shake the odd feeling that one of them would be back. Shivering, he led his squad back inside.

* * *

><p>Ripwhisker had gotten used to his room in the base of Darkgor's personal tower. He missed it now while he trooped miserably through the rain with the other scouts. He missed his warm little bed. Ripwhisker was a former Corsair who had answered to no one else. Since joining Darkgor's horde and rising through the ranks, the high-strung ferret had experienced some wonderous things. He had also experienced his fill of pain.<p>

"Owoooooh, me footpaw!"

Ripwhisker danced on one paw as he nursed the other one. Ripwhisker's entire footpaw was a throbbing mass of agony; he had accidentally trod on a sharp stone as they scaled the rain-slick cliffs on the north coast.

"Sharrup, ye ninny!"

Fisheye was a former Searat. He lashed out with the flat of his cutlass as he passed Ripwhisker, rapping him smartly on the noggin. Ripwhisker gazed at the grizzled rat with hatred burning in his eyes. The other vermin didn't respect him outside the walls of Fortress Hightop; that would have to change soon.

Ripwhisker's paw touched his sheathed sword, preparing to draw it and slay the mutinous scum. Before he could draw steel, Ripwhisker spotted something out to sea. His jaw dropped.

"Down!" he hissed.

Fourscore vermin stood on the cliffs, staring dumbly at Ripwhisker. He drew his curved scimitar and ran Fisheye through without a moment's hesitation. The rat fell, slain. Ripwhisker shook the stained blade in the faces of his troops.

"Down!" he ordered again, and this time they were down on their faces in a trice.

Ripwhisker nodded in grim satisfaction as he followed them down, watching the old ship hugging the coast far below them. All manner of creatures crowded the decks of the craft. Ripwhisker recognized one. It was the mouse Keyba who had been an oarslave on Skullrigg's ship _Gutsail_. He was capering around with a mousemaid and a pair of rabbits; he was free.

The sight made Ripwhisker feel quite ill.

A stoat nearby inched up to the edge of the cliffs, kneeling there. He silently strung an arrow, aiming down at the ship and looking to Ripwhisker for orders.

"No, you fool," he whispered. "They are looking for a place to come ashore."

The stoat returned the arrow to his quiver glumly. The slow creature brightened up as he put two and two together.

"We will be waiting," he exclaimed with a smile.

Ripwhisker nodded with an unpleasant smile of his own.

"We will be waiting," he confirmed.


	3. Chapter 3: The Mad One

**CHAPTER THREE**

The volebabe wrinkled his snout, deep in thought as Constance took a break from her tale. The kindly Badger Mother could see that the little one had something on his mind.

"What is the matter, Grunk?" she asked gently.

"I'm wond'rin' why Mar'el and Dander aren't like that mean ol' rat," the Dibbun explained.

Constance chuckled; the minds of her little Abbeybabes never ceased to amuse her. She was about to answer Grunk when a tiny fieldmouse maid chimed in.

"Mariel an' Dandin are warriors of Redwall," the little maid squeaked, and gave her best battle growl. "I will be a warrior just like Mariel some day!"

Constance laughed heartily and fondly tousled the fur on the mousemaid's head.

"I wouldn't be surprised in the slightest," the badger told her.

Cornflower's eyes shone proudly. It was high praise from her beloved Badger Mother.

Constance took a bite of one of the remaining scones, closing her eyes with an expression of pleasure. She continued the tale after a moment, sensing the impatience of the Dibbuns.

"Now then, where were we? Oh yes, Rawbuck The Mad opened his eyes and..."

* * *

><p>Rawbuck the Mad opened his eyes and took note of his situation immediately. He was alive! The squirrel's limp body had drifted into the shallows of the river. Every breath was agonizing, but Rawbuck was alive! He had only a moment to look down at the barbed arrow protruding from his midriff before he lost consciousness again.<p>

"Holly," the senseless squirrel whispered.

The wretched beast didn't see the dark forms surface in the stream with nary a ripple. They slowly closed in on his prostrate form.

The paw that dipped a scrap of cloth into the river and laid it on the squirrel's brow was gentle. The touch was not that of a vermin. The big otter and his tribe quickly and silently fashioned a stretcher and carefully loaded the former slave onto it.

"This 'un looks like 'e's been 'arfway to Dark Forest and back," one of the young otters murmured, accepting his portion of the burden without complaint.

"Roight, Oppum," the big otter - obviously the leader - responded. "Less jaw-flappin', more paw-tappin'."

The tribe of otters disappeared into the Wildlands that they knew so well. It was their home before Darkgor the Twisted had conquered it. It was their home still.

* * *

><p>Ripwhisker was confident. He led his pack of killers expertly through the dunes that ran for a few hundred yards inland from the coast. Ripwhisker preferred these northern dunes to the southern cliffs and untamed wastes. He rather thought he might retire here some season. . .<p>

The ferret Lieutenant was still day-dreaming when the javelin slew him like greased lightning from above.

Ripwhisker's second-in-command was a fox sergeant named Limper for rather obvious reasons. He stared dumbly at the body of his slain officer before raising his eyes to the pack of snarling warriors crowding the dunetops on their flanks.

The stoat archer might not have been the brightest star in the sky - his name was Dimscumm - but he was a battle-hardened soldier. He shoved Limper aside and strung an arrow, loosing it quickly at the enemy ranks. A shrew gurgled and choked, pawing at the shaft growing from his throat before collapsing and rolling brokenly down the duneside.

The stoat was fitting another arrow to his bowstring when a mousemaid leaped over the dead shrew and killed him with a length of rope.

Limper finally found his voice as he dragged his sword from its sheath. He knew time only counted in moments now.

"DARKGOR!" Limper bellowed, battering a squirrel's spear aside and running the shocked creature through.

The little platoon rallied to the call, repeating it as they matched blades with the grim-eyed invaders.

"DARKGOR! DARKGOR! KILL KILL KIIIILL!"

* * *

><p>Mariel laughed in Limper's face and dodged as the crippled fox sought her with his swordpoint.<p>

"OOH! Ya missed me, m'bucko!" the mousemaid yelled in a mocking tone before slaying him with one swift swing of her dripping Gullwhacker.

Mariel stood with one footpaw on the corpse and loosed her own war call.

"REDWAAAALL!"

The vermin scattered like leaves on the wind. They were cut down to a beast before they covered ten paces. Cries of victory rang out from The Pearl Queen's crew. Keyba swaggered around with a dazed grin on his face, carrying the fox's sword. He shook himself like a beast in a dream. The smile disappeared.

"This isn't even a dent in Dargor's army," he murmured with his face downcast.

"We are with you to the end," Mariel reassured him and looked to Dandin for support.

Her lifelong friend hesitated before nodding firmly.

"To the end," Dandin agreed.

Keyba bowed his head silently. He knew that some of his friends - maybe even Mariel - could die in a conflict with a ruthless madbeast like Darkgor. He could not bring himself to refuse their help. Honesty radiated from the eyes of these good creatures. A single tear leaked down Keyba's cheek.

"Yes," he whispered. "To the end."


	4. Chapter 4: A River Runs Red

**Chapter Four - A River Runs Red**

Mariel watched quietly as the lonely form paced along the shoreline and stared out to sea. After what seemed like ages, she picked her way across the rocky beach to the beast's side.

"You love the sea," she murmured; a statement, not a question.

The other beast was silent for another long moment.

"I do," Keyba replied.

The former oarslave turned to face the pretty mousemaid at his side and was entranced by the moonlight shining in her eyes.

"I want to slay Darkgor and vanquish his hordes from these lands of my ancestors," he told her softly, "and then I want to sail on with you and Dandin and Bowly."

Mariel allowed herself a little smile. There was something about Keyba that spoke to her heart. She felt as if she might be the only one who could see him as he really was.

"Nothing would make me happier," she assured him.

They turned as one to silently gaze out to sea once more. A few yards inland Dandin stood atop a low dune watching the pair. Bowly panted his way up to Dandin's side and took in the scene as well.

"Let them be, Dandin," he told his friend before turning away. "Mariel knows what she's doing."

Dandin's eyes were downcast now. Emotions battled for a foothold in a heart that had simultaneously dropped into his gut and risen like a lump in his throat.

"That's what I'm afraid of, old friend," he whispered - more to himself than to Bowly.

* * *

><p>Rawbuck the Mad opened his eyes... and blinked. He was either dreaming or there was an otter with a head-dress of reeds standing over him. Behind the strange beast's head Rawbuck could see a canopy of misty treetops. He closed his eyes, opened them again. The otter was still there.<p>

"The name's Quinn."

"If you mean to slay me just get on with it, riverdog," Rawbuck rasped wearily - all he could muster as a snarl at the moment. "If not, would you kindly fetch me some water. My throat is parched."

The otter chuckled, a rumbling sound rolling deep from his ample belly. He passed a flask of water carefully to Rawbuck's scarred and trembling paws.

"I dug an arrow out of yore insides not too long ago, friend," Quinn told Rawbuck, eyeing the squirrel as he thirstily drank his fill. " 'Tis a miracle that you're drawing breath at all."

Rawbuck set the flask aside soon enough and turned a pair of cold, hard eyes on the otter. He ignored the friendly beast's words.

"Those vermin murdered my daughter Holly," he spat. "I will have my vengeance. The River Krash will run red with the blood of Darkgor the Wicked and his horde. This I swear on my daughter's name."

Quinn nodded solemnly in the heavy silence that followed this.

"Two of ours were murdered as well that day," he told Rawbuck, "along with countless others in the seasons since those savages first came to this land. We will have our debt paid in blood, too. That day will come.. but it is not this day."

He laid a careful paw on Rawbuck's shoulder. That shoulder was quaking with restrained sobs.

"We must marshal our forces," he continued softly, "and you must recover, friend."

Rawbuck finally nodded, the madness in his wide eyes briefly fading even as they glittered with unshed tears. Quinn squeezed the squirrel's shoulder once respectfully before turning to leave him.

"Soon, Holly," Rawbuck the Mad murmured.


	5. Chapter 5: The Long March

(I know this is kind of a flimsy, rushed chapter after so much time passing without an update.. but I got a review that reminded me of this story. I read back through it and found myself as excited as any reader. I enjoyed it thoroughly and knew it deserved at least one flimsy chapter if that meant I could try to get back in the groove..)

The group of warriors led by the three mice and Bowly stopped at the first cliff of several to look over its edge. _The Pearl Queen_ rode gently at anchor below them in a natural harbor formed by the odd terrain. Twoscore crewbeasts - mostly otters but a scattering of Southsward squirrels and one or two shrews - had been left to guard the ship that so many of them had come to call home.

Mariel felt the oddest premonition that she would never again see the beloved vessel; she forced herself to turn and march onwards. Keyba fell into step on her right and Dandin on her left. Bowly was never far behind.

Keyba had lived in and been abducted from the Southern Wildlands as a babe. He knew the lands better than any other of their group, save the handful of his fellow oarbeasts who had elected to come along.

"The River Krash is the clearest landmark in my memory," he told Mariel as they walked together, "and its tributaries are as good a path as any to the great river itself. There were once otters that lived in those tributaries and along the river itself in places but . . . "

A shadow fell over his face; he didn't need to go on. Everybeast knew that the otters had probably been slain or enslaved long ago. Darkgor the Twisted had a lot of pain and suffering to answer for.

A surprisingly strong paw took and squeezed Keyba's own and he looked up to see Mariel smiling at him. He avoided the mousemaid's gaze shyly for the briefest of moments before meeting it and returning her smile.

"If you can lead us to one of those tributaries you mentioned, we will find whatever foul lair Darkgor calls home," Mariel told Keyba in the solemn tone of an oath, "and we will free everyone he has bonded."

Keyba nodded and watched his pretty friend turn her attention back to the chore of picking her footpaws up and putting them down. Her paw still stayed linked with Keyba's and she squeezed his again. Neither of the pair noticed Dandin on Mariel's other side staring straight ahead stonefaced.

Dandin was as dedicated to the cause of freeing beasts from the bonds of slavery as anybeast but he found himself wishing that they had never come across Keyba. Mariel was his lifelong companion... wasn't she? They had been through so much together that Dandin couldn't imagine not having Mariel at his side to their final seasons.

He was beginning to wonder if she felt the same way.


End file.
